JR: Our last show received such a resounding response, it is time to welcome back our favorite guest. Larry Sugar.
JR: Welcome Larry.
LL: Sugar, please.
JR: Sure. Well for new listeners Sugar, aka Wall Street Boy,
@lawrence-lugar is a superstar. How did you get famous Sugar?
LL: My monster cock was a pretty big hit with the ladies in High School.
JR: Teachers, the Principal? (Creepy laugh on my part.)
LL: No, the girls.
JR: You like 'em young, huh?
LL: Not at all. Most of the time, when I am perusing the panties section at Walmart, I only take pics of Mom's breast feeding.
JR: [I hit the button to ask my producer if this is really necessary. During the silence, Sugar relays a story about masturbating in the Walmart parking lot. My producer assures me that my highest ratings come from having Larry on the show. If I want syndication, this is the only way.]
LL: [finishing up his story] ... and I splooged all over my plastic spoons.
JR: Wow. I guess you really do have fuck you money!
LL: Look Johnny. Fuck you money is a state of mind.
JR: True. But isn't it kind of creepy to hang out in Walmart's lingerie section without buying anything.
LL: It would be if I didn't buy anything. I buy at least one pair of panties every week.
JR: For what?
LL: I put them on my keychain. I am a baller.
JR: No doubt. A listener sent me a pic of your lowered Dodge Neon. Quite a ride my friend. Hold on I have another text coming through.
JR: Nice keychain Sugar! I would love to see the look on the Valet's face when you roll up to your favorite restaurant.
LL: Oh, they love me.
JR: You must be a big tipper!
LL: The tip is huge!!
JR: Are we talking about your cock again?
LL: Nope. I give the valet stock tips. Unless its a chick! Then I give her Dr. Diacco's number.
JR: Diacco, the breast implant surgeon from Tampa?
LL: Same guy.
JR: Wouldn't it be more helpful if you gave them cash. A lot of the valets are in college. Some even have kids.
LL: Look Johnny. No free lunches. Besides, bigger titties leads to a better quality of life.
JR: Boy, you certainly have it all figured out. Hold on. Another text is coming through. I just pulled up your website.
JR: Wow. It's gone. What happened to the Wall Street Boy?
LL: When I reached eight inches I became a man!
JR: No doubt! So, will you be changing the website from WallStreetBoy.com to WallStreetMan.com?
LL: Nah. I have all these soiled panties to get rid of. I think I will sell them to pervs on the internet.
JR: Great advice! At least you are familiar with the market. One last question.
LL: Johnny, I am posted up in Walmart right now. Damn. This chick is fine!
JR: A breast feeding Mom?
LL: Nope. Her daughter. I wonder if she likes bad boys?
JR: Pedophiles?
LL: Fuck off Johnny. Ask your last question. I need to make my move.
JR: Do you really live on BeeJay drive in San Diego?
LL: Destiny my friend!
JR: Well. Thanks for stopping by Sugar. Good luck on your soiled panties empire.
[I hear the phone drop as Walmart security wrestles Sugar to the ground. Damn. I guess Larry should have waited.]
WMS: Sir, pull your pants up. The Sheriff is on the way.
JR: [I ask my producer once again if this is necessary. He assures me it is.]